Shen
by theCalliope
Summary: Four years after Worf's return from a Dominion prison camp, Worf and Dax struggle to keep their family together. A sequel to "Enter the Child". Chapters 9 and 10 now up.
1. Chapter 1

_This story is a sequel to Enter the Child, taking place four years later. _

_It will be continued soon. Please R&R, I might even take your feedback into account in future chapters :)_

Jazdia wondered what had made her do it. What had ever been going through her head that day four years ago. That day he had come back from the prison camp. The day she had ignored him and insulted him and refused him.

Picturing that day, she thought of all the things she could have done to make it better. She could have looked nice. She could have been standing at the airlock, waiting. Of course, she hadn't known Worf was coming back, but maybe if she'd been paying attention to the announcements, she would have guessed. Or hoped.

Then he wouldn't have come back to discover that she had forsaken him.

She could have cleaned up Kang and brought him out the the airlock with her, she thought. It would have been nice for Worf to see his son as soon as he got off the transport. Then he wouldn't have thought that she was trying to hide him. When she pictured this, she saw the energetic, easily distracted five-year-old Kang, not the uncontrollable one-year-old Kang.

In her fantasies, everything had turned out all right, and no permanent damage had been done.

She'd done it once before, the first time Worf was captured by the Dominion. There had still been a lot of Curzon left in her then, and she'd thought that the key to getting his mind off the camp was to get him naked as soon as possible. She knew better now. It wasn't the sex, it was that she'd been there for him, that she'd fawned over him, that she'd quashed every doubt he'd had about whether he'd been brave and whether he'd done the right thing.

She remembered leaning over him in the treatment chair in the infirmary, kissing him, touching his face, telling him how brave he was to escape, how pleased she was to see him. She remembered how the hollow look in his eyes had become pleased and triumphant. How he had started to believe her. By the time his body had healed enough for her to take his clothes off, he was back to his overconfident self, pretending to be afraid of nothing and bragging of his exploits.

She also remembered the look on Dr. Bashir's face when he'd seen her leaning over Worf in the infirmary. It was the pitiful look of a man who'd faced battle only to clean his own wounds and sing his own praise.

That was where the real damage from these things came from. And then she'd turned around to do the same thing to Worf, after he'd been through something so many times worse.

And he'd never been the same again. Four years later, he still wasn't quite the same. Sure, he'd stopped sleeping with a phasor , locking himself in closets for days and screaming in his sleep, but there was still that unyeilding vacant look in his eyes. He'd lost his old swagger and the bravado that she had always pretended to hate. He was unsure of everything.

Just last night, he'd looked her in the eyes and said he didn't deserve her. That wasn't the man she'd married. The one who used to make her furious by acting like he was entitled to her.

It wasn't her imagination. Starfleet hadn't let Worf return to active duty yet. "Post Traumatic Stress Disorder" were the words they used, but she knew it was just an official way of documenting the indescribable feeling that had that he was somehow damaged.

They had been correct too. A year and a half after Worf had returned, after Martok had died, after he and Jadzia had worked out their differences, and after everyone except for the Starfleet psychiatrists had thought he was back to normal, he had gone back to the Rotaran as captain. For three months, everything had gone well. His crew accepted his leadership without a hitch, and he ran the ship with utmost efficiency, albeit with a softer hand than most Klingon officers. They led the fleet. They won battles. The one day, at a bar on Kronos, Worf killed another captain.

"He wanted me to sleep with a prostitute," was all the explanation he had given. But Jadzia knew that this was close to no explanation at all. Having grown up surrounded by humans, and having spent much of his life in a monastery, he was used to jibes from less virtuous crewmen. They always tried to bring him women. The truth was, he had killed the captain for no reason at all.

"I was angry," he'd finally admitted to her.

"About what?" she'd asked.

"If I knew, I would have given that as the reason!"

So it was just a random outburst. Starfleet had known what they were talking about.

Jadzia had talked to a Klingon contact about getting Worf removed, but he had just laughed.

"And what? Be short _two_ captains?"

Klingons didn't believe in psychiatry it seemed. As far as they were concerned, Worf could serve until he died. If he killed a couple of people, that was just the way things went. You couldn't expect soldiers to always control their anger.

But Worf had felt terrible. He had paced around aimlessly for days.

"It's okay, it's okay, it's okay," she had whispered, trying to console him.

But she doubted it. It had been a long time since things had been okay. And the way things were going, she thought it would be a long time before things would ever be okay again.


	2. Chapter 2

Martok's death had been when things had started to unravel. He had been a mess. He refused to believe that he had ever worked for the Empire or the Federation. He alternately insisted that he was a Cardassian who was surgically altered to look like a Klingon for the purpose of espionage, or a Changeling infiltrator. Dr. Bashir couldn't find a thing to help him. Even the Klingons had to admit that he was crazy.

After a few months, his wife Sirella decided to euthanize him. As much as she disliked the thought, Jadzia had had to admit that Martok didn't deserve go on like he was. Worf and Dax had been in the room holding incense when she did it.

The ceremony had started with prayers and song, and the Sirella had picked up her sword. Martok had tried to get away. Worf and Jadzia had dropped their incense and gone to restrain him. They held his arms while Sirella had cut his throat.

"I am Jem'Hadar," had been his last words.

"I'm sorry," Jadzia had said as soon as Martok expired.

"I've heard a lot of that lately," Sirella had responded dourly, her daughter had been killed just the previous week.

Sirella also told Worf that he now owned the Rotaran.

"The flagship, as well as the rest of the fleet, belonged to our house," she told him, "So technically, it belongs to my son Drex, but I'm sure Martok would have wanted you to have it."

It was mostly symbolic, as Klingons had no concept of public property, but Worf looked touched. Jadzia had to admire Sirella's cleverness at a time like this. Due to his past, Worf was at risk of having his captaincy challenged, but no one would dare to, or even have the right to, if he actually owned the ship. Sirella was manoeuvring to keep her house in a position of power after her husband's death.

The next day, Worf sent Alexander to take Martok's position on the high council.

Sirella and Worf had spent the day talking business.

"If you want to send Drex, I won't object," Worf had said, but Sirella had shaken her head. Jadzia had known why. Drex was a skilled warrior, but he was immature and obnoxious, and had failed to rise even a single rank due to his habit of talking back and refusing orders. Alexander lacked military talent, but there was no denying that everyone seemed to like him no matter how many mistakes he made, an ideal quality for a politician.

Many months later, Jadzia had overheard some Klingons talking at Quark's. Apparently, the first day Alexander had walked into council, the toughest member, El'Veng had put a sword to his throat and declared,

"You look like a girl!"

"I get it from my mother," he had stated fearlessly, not moving to defend himself. After a few seconds the man had started laughing and led him to his seat. They became pals, and El'Veng never let anyone give Alexander a hard time.

"El'Veng says he's a good guy, and it's not his fault his dad's a pervert," one of the Klingons said.

"I don't know about that" said another, "After a year in a monastery, I'd be fucking every two-legged ..."

"But that's why he killed Captain Korin. He tried to get him to screw a Klingon woman," said the first man, laughing.

"I don't believe that," insisted the other, " Korin pissed everyone off."

"But Captain Worf didn't even know him. They'd just met, and he was complaining about missing his wife, so Korin bought him a throw with one of the girls in the back, and Worf just picked up a bottle and clocked him. Didn't even look at him, just turned back to the bar and finished his drink, like he didn't want to think about it too much. But the bartender said he looked really disgusted."

Jadzia had crept out of Quark's before anyone saw her.


	3. Chapter 3

In public, Worf and Jadzia looked like they were getting along fine, but the truth was, at home, they hardly talked at all.

When Jadzia got home after her shift, she would announce her presence by slamming her things down on the counter. Then Kang would start crying, either because he was surprised, or because he didn't want to see her. Eventually, Worf would calm him down and carry him out of his room. If Kang looked like he has having a good day, Jadzia would kiss him on the cheek, trying not to get nipped. Then she would go into Kang's room and clean up the toys, dishes and weapons for protection against imaginary Jem'Hadar that had been scattered there throughout the day. Meanwhile, Worf would strap Kang into his high chair and replicate dinner.

"How was your day," Worf would sometime ask, while eating.

"Fine," she would answer.

"Did Kang behave himself today?" she would sometimes ask in response.

"Yes," Worf would lie.

That was the extent of their daily conversation.

Once dinner was done, Jadzia would sit and do her work in the corner while Worf cleaned up dinner and put Kang to bed. Once he was asleep, Worf would sit at the other end of the living room and listen to opera, polish his weapons or do some of the numerous occupational therapy exercises assigned to him by his psychiatrist. At 2500 hours, they would both wordlessly go to bed. As soon as Dax woke up, she would get dressed and go to ops. Later, she would go home, and the cycle would continue.

Some nights, if only to break the monotony, Dax would go see Kira. She was still a bit mad at her, but she didn't have anywhere else to go. Besides, Kira had been very apologetic when Dax had confronted her. She didn't know Dax needed help and she'd thought Dax just wanted to be left alone. Moreover, she'd asked Dax to go for coffee three times and not got an invitation back, so she'd thought that Dax didn't want to be friends anymore. Dax had to admit to herself that she had been quite absorbed with Kang, but she still thought Kira could have tried harder.

Sometimes, when Dax was over at Kira's, they would watch shows on the computer. _Terrence and T'Pai_ was still their favourite, but when it wasn't on they'd watch _The Excalibur_. It was a comedy about the crew of a rather unfortunate small freighter. One of the running gags was that the captain and first officer of the ship were married but hated each other, and rarely spoke except in insults and demands. Laughing at the latest comedic mishap, Kira screeched,

"I don't see why anyone would ever stay in a relationship like that! I mean why don't they get a divorce already!"

"They'd still be on the same ship," Dax had quipped, but it wasn't what she had wanted to say.

She'd wanted to say "Worf and I are like that," but at the last minute she hadn't. She felt uncomfortable. She felt more than uncomfortable. She felt sick.

Days later, her stomach was still in knots. She wished she'd said something to Kira, maybe she could have helped. Deep down, Dax knew what she was feeling. It was dread finally escaping from beneath denial. She dreaded that Worf wanted to leave her. She dreaded that their relationship, having moved to the point of broadcast comedy, was unsalvageable. And she feared that at the core, regardless of all they had been through, she still loved him.

Dax knew she had to talk to Worf, but she didn't know how. She also knew that time was of the essence. What if Worf was leaning towards leaving her? It was vital to intervene before he got to that conclusion.

So, everyday, she would vow to talk to him. She would rehearse what she was going to say and when she was going to say it. She even planned for contingencies, like if Kang started to cry or if she was paged in the middle.

And then, every day, she would come up with some reason not to have the talk, only to be kicking herself as she fell asleep. She was reminded of her pregnant self, only this time she was fully aware that she was hurdling towards a point at which it would be too late to tell Worf anything.

"Jadzia," he whispered in bed one night, awaking her with a start. Had he decided? Was he going to tell her?

"What?"

"I was wondering if you wanted to go see Tara with me tomorrow," Worf mumbled.

"Who's Tara?" she asked, half-worried that it was the name of his lawyer.

"The Starfleet psychiatrist I've been working with. She thought you should come to one of my sessions," Worf replied, sounding a little bit embarrassed.

"Okay," Jadzia replied, wondering whether the time would be spent discussing their relationship or listening to tales of torture at the hands of the Jem'Hadar.

After getting Sirella to watch Kang, Worf and Jadzia walked down to the clinic. At least, that's what Worf called it, it was really disused cargo bay that had been taken over by all the Starfleet medical staff that couldn't fit into the infirmary.

The door was opened by shaky looking Bajoran.

"That's Parr," Worf narrated, "his brain was damaged by drugs given to him by the Dominion in order to induce him to tell the truth. He insisted he be put back to work, so they let him open the door and greet the patients."

"Aiming for a doorman position once you get a clean bill of mental health?" Jadzia joked, suddenly going quiet as she realized that this was the first full sentence she'd said to Worf in a long while.

"Potty training Kang is far more exciting," Worf said stiffly, "And besides, I'm captain of the Rotarran."

Worf hadn't actually stepped onto the Rotarran since Martok's death, but Jadzia didn't think this was a good time to bring that up. She followed Worf down a makeshift corridor and into a room made of plastic dividers.

"Hello Tara, my wife is with me," Worf said as they entered the room, as if he was announcing the presence of an enemy combatant.

"Hello Jadzia," said a monotone voice, clearly Vulcan.

"Hi Tara," said Dax, sitting down and looking at the psychiatrist. She was caught off guard by what she saw. The psychiatrist's voice sounded normal, but sitting in front of Jadzia was the most unusual looking Vulcan she had ever seen. Her hair was not in the usual style, but in a ponytail with long Earth-style bangs, and was complimented by heavy make-up and dangling earrings. To top it off, she wore a flowing dress in shocking pink. Dax decided that maybe she'd been hasty and maybe Tara was a Romulan. But then, Dax had never seen a Romulan wear pink.

"I am glad to see you here," Tara continued flatly, "I have heard you are suffering from marriage problems. Do not be ashamed, marriage problems are very common in alien marriages of the non-arranged variety. I am here to help you resolve these issues."

Dax was simultaneously relieved to hear that this was the reason for the visit, and concerned that this bizarre woman might not be up for the job.

"I studied psychology at Berkley, and I have been a counsellor for eight years. I have worked on eight hundred and seventeen marriages, and only seventy three have divorced. In forty-four of the cases, I thought that it was for the best," Tara stated, as if reading Jadzia's mind.

"I hope you do not find it intrusive if I use my psychic abilities to determine your emotional state," she continued.

"Of course not," Dax replied, hoping that her mind was transmitting sarcastic rays as she spoke. The Vulcan didn't seem to notice.

"Now," she said, handing the couple PADDs," I want you to write down the things you like about each other."

"Why?" Dax asked.

"It might be fun?" Tara responded in an uncertain manner that made it clear that she had no idea what fun was, but thought it might be a good way to motivate her.

Dax decided it was best to play along.

What did she like about Worf? Well, she thought his ridges were really hot. But that should be left for second, she decided, she should put something deeper first. Well, he was good with Kang, but that's not really a quality, so maybe that could go third. For first ... maybe that he was brave. Yeah, he'd like that. And honourable. And devoted. Those were good things to put down too.

"Then," Tara continued, seeming to notice that her mind had quieted "Put down some things you have in common."

That was harder. An enjoyment of hand to hand combat was the first thing she put down. And they liked the same types of food. But really, they didn't have much in common, other than they'd agreed to be together. That was it, that was what they had in common, that they knew their relationship was a choice and agreed to make it work.

She remembered that first night together, when Worf had vowed to do whatever it took to make her happy. And on their wedding night, when he'd promised to love her forever. And that day, soon after he'd come back, when he'd promised to do whatever it took to make things up to her, even though she was also at fault. Sweet, devoted Worf. She wondered when the Vulcan would leave and they could make out.

After the session, Worf and Dax walked back to their quarters. The rest of it had been boring, with Tara droning on about why all the qualities they had written down were good things.

"What do you think of her?" Worf asked.

"Honestly?"

"Yes, honestly."

"I think she's nuts," Jadzia said, deciding it was best not to lie.

"Me too," Worf replied, to Dax's surprise, "But the drug she's given me have been fairly helpful, and I do want to get back into Starfleet eventually."

"I didn't know you were taking drugs," Dax said quietly.

"Just to sleep," he said defensively.

"Well, I'm sure she's competent," Dax continued, "And aren't most psychiatrists a bit strange."

"Deanna, the counsellor on my last assignment wasn't," Worf contradicted. Dax smiled.

"I'm sorry," she said teasingly, "but I think I remember attending a naked wedding sometime in the last few years."

Worf scowled.

When Worf went to get Kang, Jadzia stopped him.

"Do you want to leave him for a bit and have lunch?" she asked.

Worf nodded. They went into their quarters, replicated the usual meals and sat down.

"How's work?" Worf asked. "Really," he added, showing that he wanted a response.

"Bad," she said, "I'm starting to have doubts that we can win against the Dominion, and so is everyone else. It's taking a toll on morale."

"I noticed the same thing on the Rotarran," Worf said, "Of course, Klingons won't mention it, but you can tell. And the sacred text says we should destroy the home world before letting anyone else take it. It's making the crew nervous. They're afraid that in the end they'll have to destroy their own families."

Dax shivered at the thought.

"How's Kang ?" she asked, not quite getting the thought out of her mind.

"In better shape than the Federation. But he still doesn't use the toilet all of the time."

Jadzia laughed. They lingered over their meals for awhile, chatting, and then Jadzia had to return to ops.

"Do you want to see Tara again?" Worf asked as she walked out the door.

"Not a chance," she responded, "But we should do this more often."

For the rest of the afternoon, Dax's heart was singing. "We talked!" she kept thinking in excitement. When she got home, she made sure they kept talking. Kang was surprised, he kept interjecting random syllables as if he thought he was expected to talk too.

As the days went by, Worf began to be in higher spirits. He started leaving their quarters more often. He gave up his occupational therapy and started to spend his evenings planning battle drills and fine tuning the Rotarran.

One morning, Jadzia was awoken by Worf moving around the bedroom. He was dressed in his Klingon armour.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"There's a couple of Dominion ships getting close to Bajor. We're going to try and take them out before they cause any trouble."

"I thought you were taking some time off from the Rotarran," she objected.

"I changed my mind," he stated flatly.

A few days later, Dax was glad. She hadn't realized the amount of time Worf had spent moping since Martok's death. Having him in a good mood made everything seem brighter.

Worf and Dax started to cheat a little bit, and would some days spend an hour or two alone after work before they went and got Kang. They mostly talked about the war, and various difficulties they were having with crew members, but one day, Dax decided she was going to break the touch barrier. The talk barrier had gone pretty well, she decided, so there was no reason to put it off any longer.

Worf had gone off on a boring tangent, about how the new phase-induced disruptors were not quite as efficient as the old proto-matter devices. As he spoke, Jadzia slid over next to him, and kissed him. He kissed back for a moment, and then pulled back.

"I thought you didn't want to touch me," he stated.

"Of course I want to touch you," she purred in what she hoped was her most seductive voice. She straddled him, and leaned in to kiss him again. He held her back.

"Not since I got back," he boomed, looking stern.

"I ... I admit I've been a bit of a snit," she wavered.

"That is an understatement," replied Worf.

"Well ... I want to make it right. I want things to be like they were before," she whispered, realizing that that was what she had wanted to say for a long time but hadn't.

Worf glared at her with an exasperated expression, but he eventually loosened his grip and let her fall against him. She resumed kissing, and he didn't pull away.

A few minutes later, they heard the door crashing open.

"I know you haven't come to get him yet, but I thought you would pleased to hear that Kang finally went all day without—"

It was Sirella. She stopped when she saw them.

"I'll come back," she said, leading Kang by the hand out the door.

"No, no," Dax said, standing up "You can leave him here. We're both finished work, and we're really grateful you could watch him."

Sirella smiled.

"Don't worry, I am as much in favour of additional children as the next mother in law," she declared, leading Kang out of the room.

Jadzia sat back down on Worf's lap.

"Do you think we should take her up on that," she whispered into his ear.

"You want an additional child?" he asked, surprised.

"I'm not sure," she said sweetly, "But I know I want you."

She tried to think of a way to convince him, but when she looked back, she saw the wild eyes of a man who was beyond rational thought. When she kissed him, he kissed back ravenously, and she felt his arms clamp around her with the sort of force that broke bones.

When they were finished, he looked up at her with bleary eyes and whispered,

"I love you."

"Oh, I love too," she responded softly, knowing what she said was true.

For the next few days, Dax was indescribably happy. It was a relief to get things back the way they had been. Of course, they weren't quite the same. One of the side effects of talking more was more fighting. And Dax couldn't help but feel that Worf was more detached than usual.

"It's the camp," Worf finally admitted, "I just can't stop thinking about it."

And Dax wished she could make it go away with a few kind words and some wild sex, but she knew the time for that had passed.

The next week, when Dax went to visit Kira, Worf joked,

"Make sure you watch all the latest episodes of _Terrance and T'Pai!_"as she walked out the door. It pleased Jadzia immensely to hear him joking.

But when Dax got to Kira's, she found out that _Terrance and T'Pai_ was on break, so they watched _The Excalibur_.

"You know what," Dax said as the captain/husband battled out his latest dispute with his first officer/wife, "I think they still like each other. I think they could get things back together, if they could just spend some time together and make an effort to work things out."

Kira put her hand on Dax's shoulder and smiled as she looked at her.

"I'm glad," Kira said, "I'm glad."


	4. Chapter 4

"Touch me," Jadzia whispered. It had been a long day, and she felt exhausted. Thrown across her bed, her body felt like it weighed a thousand kilos. Or five kilos, the voice in the back of her head said. That's how much more than usual she'd weighed the last time she'd asked the computer.

"You are very demanding," joked Worf, but he put his hands on her shoulders. They were rough, but had a good pressure to them.

"I only do it because you listen," she said defiantly, turning to look him in the eye, but her defiance was lost in a wave of dizziness, and she put her head down. Worf looked concerned.

"You are not feeling well," he stated.

"I'm just tired," she replied, trying to convince herself as much as him, "I worked a double shift today, and before that I played with Kang when I should have been sleeping. And my back hurts. I've been lifting boxes."

"Am I making it feel better?" Worf asked, resuming his massage.

"Yes," smiled Jadzia , as a flash of cold stole through her and she shivered. Gingerly, he flipped her over.

_What does he want now_, she thought in a stupor as he pulled down the covers and invaded her torso with his hands,_ I'm not up for this_. To her surprise, he was gazing down at her with a piercing expression when she opened her eyes.

"You're pregnant," he said in a voice that was slightly accusatory.

"I... I don't know," she said wearily, "I have been feeling off," but in her mind there was no doubt. Ever since she'd weighed herself, the truth had been stewing at the back of her mind.

"Tomorrow we will see Dr. Bashir and find out," Worf stated more gently. There was a hint of a smile on his face as he stroked her belly.

Jadzia shivered, and Worf wrapped a blanket around her and held her in his arms. In her dizziness, she thought of the day she'd brought Kang home for the first time. He had been so sweet with those little fangs. Babies weren't so bad, really ...

****

The couple waited for two hours outside of the infirmary, and Dr. Bashir's uniform was dirty and he had blood smeared on his face when they saw him. Another shipload of casualties had just come in from the Gamma quadrant.

"What can I do for you two?" he asked with an exasperated expression that made it clear that if they were there for another set of 'recreational' injuries, he was going to turn them away.

"Jadzia has been feeling ill," Worf said, "I think she may be pregnant."

"That's easy enough to find out," the doctor responded automatically, reaching for his tricorder. His face soured as he began to scan.

"You're almost three months in!" he sputtered, "Why didn't you come in before now?"

She sat stunned for a moment, her head feeling as heavy as a crate.

"We've been trying for more than a year now," she lied, "and after awhile we gave up."

She didn't think she could stand the look on Dr. Bashir's face if she told him that she hadn't really been thinking about it. And certainly, she wasn't going to tell him about their relationship problems when Worf had first arrived.

"Well, you should be scanning yourself every two weeks while you have those enzymes in your body," he responded rapidly with annoyance in his voice, "You can set the computer to do it for you."

With that, he walked across the room, and punched a few buttons on a console.

"There," he said, "That's all it takes." He picked up the tricorder and kept scanning.

"Now, you're seriously anaemic," he continued, his voice growing harsh "I'm surprised you're still walking and you could have hurt the baby. I'm going to give you some medication."

He walked over and pushed a hypospray into her back. She felt some of her dizziness lift almost immediately.

"You will need to take another one of these in fifteen minutes, and then another every six hours after that." He handed her a PADD,

"And here's a diet I want you to follow, I don't think you've been eating properly."

Jadzia looked up, hoping for some congratulations or kind words, but the doctor's face was stern.

"You can go now," Dr. Bashir whispered, "Come back in three days."

"You don't want me to stay for the next hypospray?" she asked.

"It's all on the PADD," he replied, "Worf can give it to you unless he can't handle basic mechanical instruments--"

"I'm sure we'll be fine," she interjected before he could finish. Dr. Bashir continued.

"Honestly, I don't know what you're doing, getting yourself into a state like this. Just because I didn't give you the enzymes this time doesn't make it any less risky!"

"I'm sorry," Jadzia said, "I wasn't thinking."

"That's a fact," the doctor spat and motioned them out the door.

"I wonder what is wrong with him?" Worf asked as soon they were out of the infirmary, "He is usually very cheerful."

"Dealing with all those casualties must be stressful," she suggested, although she was wondering the same thing. Then she had a thought.

"One second," she said, running back into the infirmary. Dr. Bashir was leaning exhausted in a chair.

"I'm sorry I'm in such a bad mood," he moaned as soon as she walked in, "I haven't slept for two days."

"I was just wondering if it's a boy or a girl," she asked quietly. He grappled for the tricorder beside him.

"A boy," he said, holding it out tiredly in front of him.

Worf grinned when she told him, and she smiled a little too. She promised herself that she was going to take extra good care of this one, she was going to protect him and she wasn't going to ignore him no matter what he did .

*****

Jadzia hoped that Dr. Bashir would be back to normal the next time she saw him, but he wasn't.

"I still think you're being irresponsible," he told her over lunch.

"How so?" she asked, a bit shaken.

"Well, if you haven't noticed, there's a war on, " he said ostentatiously.

"And?"

"You should be focusing on other things"

"Other things than family? Julian, in the end I'm going to have to do the things I want in life, war or no war."

She had been considering telling him the truth, that the pregnancy was a surprise, but now she felt defensive.

"You could always have one after the war's over," Dr. Bashir replied dismissively.

"Julian," she said kindly, "I'm almost thirty-six. I don't know how much longer I'll have."

"You know there's technology to help with that," he interjected.

Jadzia knew what he was talking about. She had taken a tour of the leading fertility centre on Earth when she was at the academy, and had found it quite disturbing. The place was so institutional, with rows of identical canisters, petri dishes, artificial wombs and cradles that she was surprised the babies didn't turn out identical. Meanwhile, everyone who worked there thought they had the best job on Earth. She called the place the Happy Human Factory.

"No, I am not sending in my nail clippings so they can make me a kid like a pair of custom slippers," she spat.

"Once they get over the initial distaste, most couples find ..." Dr. Bashir stated, like he was reading from a textbook.

"Anyhow, I'm sure Worf would have religious problems with it"

"That's his problem," the doctor snapped, "And that's another thing you should be worried about. I've heard that Worf's mental state hasn't returned to its normal level of excellence." A slight bit of disdain in Dr. Bashir's voice made it clear that he hadn't thought much of Worf's mental state in the first place.

"He's really doing quite well ,considering."

"Did he not kill a captain not too long ago?" Dr. Bashir sneered.

"He had never been anything but a good father to Kang!" she exclaimed angrily, not wanting to pursue the issue, "If I didn't know better, I'd think you'd been replaced by a changling!"

With that, she stood up and stormed off.

****

Luckily, everyone else was more enthusiastic.

"They'll be twin terrors!" Cheif O'Brien remarked, but he acted like it was a good thing.

Major Kira was all smiles when she told her, and brought her a Bajoran charm that was supposed to ensure the child good health. Jadzia didn't really believe in those things, but it was a nice thought and wore it anyways.

Captian Sisko looked concerned when she told him.

"You know I can't spare you for the upcoming mission," he said unhappily, and she knew why. Twenty percent of the officers that had been around when she was pregnant with Kang were now dead.

"That's okay," she said cheerfully, "The drugs Dr. Bashir gave me are making me feel a lot better." She tried not to think about the doctor too much.

"Still, I wish things were different."

"Who knows," she quipped, "The Dominion might surrender before then. "

Captain Sisko laughed. There was some chance of that.


	5. Chapter 5

Kang was starting to talk, and this pleased Jadzia immensely. She had been cleaning up breakfast, chastising Kang for spilling his second glass of blood, when he spoke up.

"Mom," he said in a quiet voice. She turned around in astonishment.

"Did you just say 'Mom'?" she asked, but he stayed silent.

"Well, good Kang, saying a word," she said, kissing him on the forehead. He made a face and pulled away.

Picking him up to take to Sirella's, she wondered when he had got so old. So big. When he had started sitting calmly in her arms and not trying to break free.

"He said 'Mom' this morning!" Jadzia declared triumphantly as she gave Kang to Sirella. Sirella gave her a look of disbelief, but soon Kang was saying 'Dad' and 'Auntie', and then 'blood' and then every type of food at the table. He started learning words so quickly that Jadzia joked that he must have a dictionary stashed in his crib somewhere.

For the first time, Dax looked forward to getting home after work. She liked seeing how much Kang had progressed during the day, and he sounded so excited every time he yelled 'Mom' when she walked through the door.

She started taking him around the station more often, partly to get out to new places, but mostly to show off how much better he was behaving. Sure, he still acted out, but it was more Klingon way. Once, he had thrown his plate at the waiter at the Bajoran restaurant because his food was cold. Jadzia scolded him, but she was reminded of another Kang she had known a long time ago.

One day, the voice she dreaded came over the Comm system.

"Sisko to Dax. I just got word that mission delta-53 is going ahead. Please man your station."

Her position was commanding the Defiant. She wanted to go and say goodbye to Kang, but she knew she didn't have time. Instead, she paged Sirella over the Comm system.

"Worf just called to say he would be going too," she said, "So I guess I'll have Kang for awhile."

"Tell him I'll miss him," she replied and ran off to the Defiant. She suspected Sirella wouldn't tell him anything.

They quickly got moving. The Dominion had just started an attack on the Breen. The allied forces were moving in to destroy their shipbuilding facilities while they were gone.

It was a long and boring trip. Jadzia spent most of her time sitting in the captain's chair and staring into space, wondering how Kang was doing. She missed him so much it was almost unbearable. She talked to Sirella over subspace sometimes, and tried to get her to send videos, but she didn't seem to quite understand.

"What should I send videos of?" she asked, "Kang never does anything but play."

_Anything, really_ Jadzia wanted to scream.

Eventually, Sirella sent a video of Kang painting a picture of a space ship and explaining it. It was funny because he really didn't understand spaceships at all. He seemed to have grown over the two weeks since she'd seen him. She watched it every day before she went to bed.

Dr. Bashir was in about as good a mood as she was.

"You don't seem to be enjoying this mission," she said to him as she walked into his quarters, hoping to get back on speaking terms. He was sitting on the side of his bunk reading a magazine dejectedly. She sat next to him.

"You don't seem your usual chipper self either," he replied, not looking up.

"I miss Kang," she said.

"I miss having a life," he moaned.

"Of course you have a life," she contradicted.

"Not since Emily died," he spat bitterly, "Since then, it's been sixteen hour shifts. Can't nip off to get a drink or play a game of racketball, someone might die."

"Emily?" Jadzia asked.

"Dr. O'Malley."

"Did you know her?"

"A bit. She was so shy she was hard to talk to, but I thought given enough time there might eventually be something."

Dr. Bashir leaned back an looked up at the ceiling,

"I took her to walk in the autumn leaves in the holosuite, just as friends, and Igot her talking, and then .."

He motioned firing a phasor, and then a body falling with his hands. Jadzia was lost for words.

"I'm sorry," she said finally.

"These things happen" he replied with a touch of sarcasm.

"And Starfleet won't replace her," he continued, "They say they're shorthanded, and of course I'm not one of the important people, with a family."

"I'm sure it's just an oversight," Dax murmured.

"I'm sick of it," he whispered, "I'm sick of being important enough to have to save everyone, but not important enough for anyone to care about me."

"It'll be okay," Dax replied automatically.

"Do you really mean that?" he asked softly.

"No, not really."

She wasn't sure how it happened, but suddenly, the two of them were laughing hysterically. It was several minutes until they stopped.

"How's that baby growing?" Dr. Bashir asked finally, suddenly sounding friendly.

"I hate to talk shop," she said slowly, "But my back's been hurting and he hasn't been moving so much."

"I can take a look tomorrow," the doctor responded, "here, I have plenty of time on my hands, I'm just stuck on a ship."

*****

Jadzia left soon after, and was in a much better mood. Somehow, finding a partner in misery made her feel better. As she walked to her quarters, she felt the ship shake.

"Captain, you better come up here," Chief O'Brian's voice rang over the Comm system. She ran up the stairs to the bridge.

"Attack formation delta," she heard Chief O'Brien say as she walked through the door. She looked at the front, and there were four Jem'Hadar ships coming towards the Defiant.

"Fire at will," his voice rang out, and there was a great crash, and she was thrown off her feet. She wrestled to stand and get to the captain's chair, but the ship kept moving. She felt a sharp pain in her back. The pain intensified and she realized that her clothes were wet. It wasn't time yet, she thought urgently, she couldn't be going into her labour. She willed herself to look down at her lap, and she gasped in horror. After eight children in different life times, she knew it wasn't the stuff that should be there. It was actual blood. She looked around, trying to figure out what to do. Then she saw Dr. Bashir running onto the bridge.

"Julian!" she yelled. He staggered towards her, and as he got closer, she saw a look of understanding in his eyes.

"We need to get you to sickbay," he said, pulling her to her feet. She winced. As they walked into the corridor, a blast threw them against the wall.

"Just hold my hand and keep walking," he told her with forced calm, "As fast as you can."

Somehow they got there.

"I'm going to put you into stasis," Dr. Bashir said, "I need to put you to sleep."

"What about the baby?" she whispered. She knew they couldn't go into stasis together.

"I'll take him out and see what went wrong. I can put him in the other unit."

"You can't do that," she gasped frantically, "It's too early, he's too little."

"We might be able to put him in an artificial womb back at the station."

"We might?! " she cried.

"Jadzia. The ship is under attack. You're bleeding badly. I need to put you down."

I wasn't a question. Before she could protest, she felt a hypospray in her neck, and then she felt the ship lunge. She tried to yell but she couldn't.

She dreamed that Kang was in front of her. He was in Sirella's arms, and Worf and Alexander were nearby. So were Sirella's two living children.

"Kang!" she yelled, but he didn't even look at her. She went up to Sirella, but she turned away.

"Give me Kang," she implored, but Sirella just gave her an evil look. It was the same look she'd given her when she'd wanted to marry Worf. "You're not worthy," it yelled.

"I'm his mom!" she screamed across the void. A bat'leth appeared in her hand and she went up to Sirella with it.

"Give him to me!" she yelled, brandishing the blade.

Sirella grabbed her arm and twisted it. The blade fell. Not willing to fail, she grabbed onto Kang and tried to wrest him from Sirella's arms. Jadzia kicked her as she pulled, and finally, she lost grip.

A rush of relief flooded through Jadzia.

"Kang," she said happily, bouncing him in her arms. But he bit and scratched. "Controlyourself," she said, but he didn't stop. Finally, as his claws went deeper, she pushed him away, but it was too late. His teeth were already digging into her throat. She felt blood pouring out, and then her throat collapsing.

Then there was darkness.


	6. Chapter 6

"Let's do this," a voice rang out. It was Dr. Bashir's.

"We should wait for your surgical staff," said another. Worf's.

"You mean the dead ones?" Dr. Bashir asked, "She is waking up. We need to do this quickly."

Jadzia opened her eyes. She saw a blue ceiling.

"I'll open her up, you just need to pull the clamp out, okay."

"Okay," Worf agreed.

Jadzia felt a pain in her side, and then a tug, and then the pain subsided.

"See, that wasn't hard at all," Dr. Bashir stated.

Where am I? she wondered. She remembered Chief O'Brien running the Defiant. Had she been hurt? Were the Jem'Hadar still attacking the ship? But then why was Worf here?

"You've had a bad bleed," Dr. Bashir said, "Try to stay still."

"Is the ship okay?" she asked.

"Yes, the Chief managed to get us all out of harm's way. You're back on the station."

So that was why the ceiling was different than when Dr. Bashir had put her down. Why had he put her down in the first place? Suddenly, everything flooded back. Then, it struck her that something was horribly wrong. No one seemed pleased. No one was shoving a crying bundle with fangs in her face.

"What happened?" she asked.

They ignored her, Dr. Bashir scanning her with his tricorder and Worf standing quietly by her side.

"You have to tell me what happened to the baby," she said frantically, reaching up to grab Dr. Bashir's arm. Her arm felt heavy.

They looked uneasy. She started to panic.

"You have to tell me," she insisted, "You have to! He's ..." she stumbled for a few seconds, working up courage to say the word, "_dead_, isn't he?!"

They didn't contradict her.

"He was badly deformed, he passed away last night," Dr. Bashir said finally, "I'm sorry, Jadzia."

"Why didn't you wake me up?" she demanded, deranged, before she burst into tears. Worf walked over to her and held her hand.

"We can have another one," he said gently, after her tears had subsided. She nodded slightly, and started sobbing again.

"What was wrong with him?" Jadzia asked eventually.

"Dr. Bashir did not know. He said it might have been genetic."

Or it might not have, Jadzia thought, acidly.

"Regardless, the doctor said his heart could not possibly support his body," Worf paused uncomfortably, "so I sent him honourably into the afterlife."

Jadzia gasped. She looked up at Worf, and she could see the horror still etched on his face.

"I know it is against our laws, but he was in so much pain and the doctor said that if when he left the room I wanted to ..."

Jadzia grabbed Worf's hand and held it tight.

*****

Three days later, Jadzia didn't want to leave the infirmary. She wasn't allowing visitors. She just wanted everyone to go away.

She didn't want people's sympathy. It was all her fault. Might have been genetic? He might be able to fool Worf, but Jadzia knew the doctor would have been sure if the problems were genetic. It was his own handiwork. He would have been working obsessively to figure the problem out if he had the slightest suspicion it was genetic.

Jadzia made bargains with herself. She would check for pregnancy every day. She would take every gram of medication the doctor gave her and then some. She would do every little thing she could think of to keep from harming the next one.

But deep down, she knew it was useless. It was too late. There was nothing she could do that would make up for the mistakes she had made.

She had pulled the surveillance tapes for the night they had brought her in. Both Dr. Bashir and Worf were panicking slightly. The stasis unit looked damaged. When they pulled her out, she was in a pool of blood. They rushed her into surgery, and the doctor worked for several hours.

After she was stable, Worf and Dr. Bashir conferred for a long time. An infant was brought out of stasis, a grotesque body with no limbs that bulged strangely into a head. It was put into an incubator. Dr. Bashir left.

Looking both devastated and revolted, Worf pulled out his sword. He paused. Was he hesitating, or trying to find a neck? Jadzia couldn't tell. Regardless, after a few seconds, the sword went down and there was blood. Worf stormed out, and Dr. Bashir came back in. He pushed the entire incubator into the disposal unit with a bitter look on his face.

Afterwards, Jazia wished she had never watched it. She quickly returned to her cot and pulled the sheets above her head, crying.

Later, she heard Dr. Bashir come in.

"You know you're free to go whenever you want," he said gently. He had said the same thing the day before.

"I just can't, Julian," she replied despondently.

"I brought you a visitor," he continued.

"I don't want—," she started, but then she saw the door open slightly.

Kang.

He looked so much like his father, his stoic face as he stood by the door. He stood there for a minute, not moving, not revealing anything. Then he smiled, and came running into her open arms.


	7. Chapter 7

The days went by and the months went by and somehow, Jadzia got through them. At first the grief seemed unbearable, but eventually it waned, and things slowly returned to normal. Or at least partially normal. The war was getting more desperate and casualties were mounting, so normal was starting to consist of fourteen hour shifts, or longer every day. The mood was different too. There was less joking and socializing, but perhaps it was because no on e had the time. The only plus side was that she didn't have to put up with excessive sympathy, because one dead child was the least of anybody's problems.

Jadzia worried about Kang. He seemed traumatized by her having been gone so long. After their reunion in the infirmary, Kang had refused to leave Jadzia's arms until he fell asleep, and he screamed for her as soon as he got up in the morning. Every day, it took longer to get him to Sirella's, he always threw tantrums on the way. She really thought he would calm down if she could just spend more time with him, but when she had asked Captain Sisko, all he could say was that his hands were tied.

"I'm worried about Kang," Jadzia had told Sirella when she dropped him off, screaming, one day, "He seems so anxious. It can't be good for him to be so upset all the time."

"That's not what I would be worried about," she replied stiffly, "There were three child casualties in the last attack on the station."

"I don't know what I would do if..." she whispered, lowering her head. But that wasn't true. She knew exactly what she would do, she would jump out an airlock. She had decided on this after having a nightmare where Sirella's quarters were obliterated by a photon blast. She had woken up terrified, and had consoled herself by thinking that if it happened in real life it couldn't be as bad as in the dream, because she would only have to face reality for thirty seconds. It would only take thirty seconds to get to the nearest airlock.

At first, Worf had been vehement about having another child, Jadzia suspected in his mind he was somehow trying to replace the last one, but eventually he relented. He admitted that his faith had been shaken for awhile, and he hadn't wanted to be resigned to the will of the Gods, but now he was willing to wait and see what had happened. Jadzia knew she should have insisted on something more severe than waiting and seeing, but on some level the hope that she would eventually have another baby was keeping her together.

Those first few weeks, Jadzia was worried that Worf would completely lose it. He had started lashing out at every little thing, the glass of water he had dropped, the towel he had slipped on. He also seemed detached, some nights he would spend hours staring into the stars.

"Maybe you should talk to Tara about this," Jadzia has suggested finally, after Worf had said he was staring into space because he was wondering whether Alexander was still alive.

"I have stopped seeing Tara," Worf replied.

"Why?" she asked.

" I have come to realize that I do not wish to return to Starfleet," he said, "So complying with their course of treatment for combat stress is no longer necessary."

Jadzia was shocked.

"But Starfleet was your life! Why would you want to leave?"

"The time I spent in the camp as well as the time on Klingon ships has changed me. I no longer think that I would fit in. Moreover, Starfleet is something I no longer wish to be a part of."

"You should have discussed this with me!" Jadzia insisted.

"Jadzia," he breathed, "If you could be anywhere right now, and did not have to worry about being court-martialled where would you be?"

"Somewhere I could spend twenty-six hours a day with Kang if I wanted, " she admitted.

"Exactly," Worf spat.


	8. Chapter 8

_Author's note: I have planned out four more chapters, and then this long and rather disjoint story will be complete :)__ Hopefully it will all be posted by next week._

*****

It was 500 hours when Sirella came running in to Worf and Jadzia's quarters. She was clearly upset, and seemed confused about what to do once she entered. She looked slightly relieved when Jadzia came out of the bedroom in her house coat.

"Sirella," she said in surprise.

"My second daughter Shen was killed last night. I just found out," she said frantically, barely breathing, "I ... I thought you should know."

Jadzia stopped. She knew that Sirella had no one else to run crying to.

"I am sorry to hear that," she said sadly, "What happened?"

Sirella's daughter Shen was somewhat of a public figure in the Klingon Empire. She was one of a very few female captains of Klingon vessels, and was certainly the most respected one. There was a very famous photo of her walking off her ship after leading a successful assault on the Cardassians.

Adding to the intrigue was the fact that she was an extreme religious conservative. She wore and odd bulky dress underneath her armour to hide her figure and a jintaq, a necklace given to girls on their fifteenth birthday to signify that they were available to take a mate. Usually, these were shed by the late teens as the idealism of youth gave way the realities of relationships, but at the age of thirty, Shen still wore hers. She had once been quoted by a Klingon women's magazine saying that she avoided pleasures of the flesh in order to give herself fully to the Gods and the empire.

Jadzia had met her recently, when she had come to visit Sirella. They had bonded. Shen had adored Kang, coming to play with him every time she had a free moment.

"I'm never going to have any," she had said, "So I have to enjoy my nephew."

"What do you mean you're never going to have any?" Jadzia had insisted.

"I'm so busy on my ship and so many men have been killed already. I'll never meet anybody."

"Maybe there aren't a many men on the home world," Jadzia had challenged, "But you live on a ship surrounded by men. One of them must like you."

"But I'm the captain."

"So? That means you must also spend time with other captains, who, if what Worf tells is correct, are almost all men."

"It's just ..." she stammered.

"There's someone you like, isn't there," Jadzia had stated, looking her in the eye. Shen had lowered her gaze uncomfortably.

"It's ... it's my first officer," she said finally, "We work together so seamlessly, and I can't help but wonder ..."

"Do you think he likes you?" Jadzia asked gently, as Shen began to stroke Kang's hair.

She nodded.

"Then you have to make a move, because he can't just hit on the captain. Invite him for dinner in your quarters, and send your guards away, and jump him."

"I can't just ..."

"Why not?" Jadzia insisted, half jokingly.

Shen let go of Kang and lowered her head again. Suddenly, as if on a whim, she asked,

"Does it hurt?"

Jadzia turned, stunned. Here was a woman, portrayed by the media as strong and brave and unencumbered by worldly concerns, looking ashamed and worrying whether it hurt. How could a woman who had led so many in battle be so immature?

"Surely you've had your share of injuries. You can't possibly be afraid of pain," Jadzia spat, and then worried that she had been too harsh.

"It's just that ... I ... I've never really done anything with a man before. I've never even been on a date. I was always so busy with school, and then my ship and the war. What if I don't know what to do?"

Jadzia tried to speak kindly.

"I assume that the man you're interested in shares your religious beliefs?" she asked.

Shen nodded.

"Then it's probably safe to assume that he doesn't know what he's doing either ..."

Shen looked down for a bit more, but then replied,

"I think that makes me feel a bit better."

"Good," Jadzia boomed, with mock severity, "Because next time I see you, you better not be wearing that necklace, or you'll have me to answer to."

She stayed for a few more hours before she had to return to her ship. Jadzia was glad she'd visited. She hadn't had much time for matchmaking or gossip lately, and she kind of missed it.

"Mom says you're expecting again," Shen said before she left.

"That is purely speculation," Jadzia snapped.

"I'll make sure to come back and see your speculation then," she had said with a smile, and was off.

She was killed two weeks later.

Jadzia had sat with Sirella as she pulled up the recording the Klingon high command had sent her. Shen was mulling around the bridge, still wearing her odd dress, still wearing her necklace when a band of Jem'Hadar beamed aboard.

Recently, the Dominion had figure out how to beam through Klingon cloaks and shields. This was one of many stealth attacks that had taken place over the course of the week.

Shen pulled her sword, but it was too late, they had already pushed her to her knees. She started to swear about how it was an unfair attack, without honour.

A young man yelled out to her. Jadzia thought this must be the first officer that Shen had told her about. He was more panicked than she had ever seen a Klingon, desperately trying to break free from the Jem'Hadar that were holding him. Jadzia felt sure he was in love with her.

Ignoring the scuffle, one of the soldiers holding Shen took her sword away, and conferred with his partner in a series of grunts. The sword came down in a terrible arc, and Shen's head fell to the ground.

Sirella gasped and started crying. In the recording, the first officer stopped moving, and looked down with horror, as if he was unable to comprehend what he was seeing. The Jem'Hadar moved back and slit his throat, and he fell. Because of the hour, and heavy losses, there had been only two Klingons on the bridge.

One of the Jem'Hadar threw down a small, round device, and then they beamed off. In a few seconds, the ship exploded.

Sirella began to rave incomprehensibly.

"Even Romulans wouldn't do something as cowardly as that!" she screamed.

"At least she died fighting the enemy," Jadzia said softly, "That assures her a place in Sto-Vo-Kor."

"She certainly believed that," Sirella said sadly.

"I'll name the baby after her," Jadzia offered, "To carry on her name."

"So it's girl," Sirella said cruelly, "That's too bad."

Jadzia braced herself to keep from responding. Who knew how anyone would act in the same situation? She patted her on the shoulder.

In a few minutes, Sirella got up.

"Where are you going?" asked Jadzia.

"Back to my quarters," she said walking into Kang's room, "It's almost time for your shift."

"You don't need to take Kang today!" Jadzia exclaimed, "I can have Jake or Keiko look after him until you're feeling better!"

"Who else do I have?" Sirella asked bitterly as she walked into his room.


	9. Chapter 9

Shen was born uneventfully, uneventful being a relative term. There was the being put down. There was the surgery. There was the being woken up pre-maturely by Captain Sisko because the station was under attack and he needed her to enter her codes for the torpedo launcher. There was the swearing at Captain Sisko and the stubborn refusal and the pain of open insicions that eventually caused her to relent. There was the eventual reawakening, with Worf at her side to a little girl with a heavy face that had clearly already learned to scream very loudly. The fact that she considered none of this eventful was a testament to all the other events that had happened recently.

Worf was thrilled with the new baby. He seemed completely immune to her screaming.

"As you can see, she is perfectly healthy," Dr. Bashir had said with an amusing shrug that suggested that he wished that she had been born a bit less healthy, or at least expressed it in less vocal ways.

"She just wants a bit of attention," Worf had said lovingly, stroking her fine hair with his large hands.

Of course, it was more than a bit of attention. With the few years that had passed since Kang had been born, Jadzia had forgotten just how much work caring for a baby was. Especially a needy baby. Shen didn't seem satisfied only crying because she was cold or hungry or needed a change, a lot of the time she just wanted to be held. Jadzia and Worf alternated nights sleeping on the couch with Shen. Sometimes Kang would join in because he wanted attention too.

Captain Sisko had given Dax four days before she had to get back to her twelve-hour shifts. She resented this very much. Dax worried that Shen's fussiness was a sign of a very sensitive personality, and she might find being left with Sirella upsetting. Moreover, Sirella was finding a baby difficult to care for at her age, and often handed Shen off to one of her servants.

Jadzia had reached the point where she was done with being civil to Starfleet. She made a point of going into Captain Sisko's office each morning, and not mincing words while telling him she was unhappy. She was also subtly unco-operative, not enough to raise eyebrows, but intentionally making mistakes and misunderstanding orders.

"I'm sorry," she would say whenever she was reprimanded, "I'm just so exhausted." Captain Sisko knew very well she was lying, but he was in a difficult position: his only recourse was to court martial her, and if he did, she wouldn't be available for work.

Worf was busier too. He wouldn't tell her why, that was secret, but he didn't have to. The situation with the Dominion was becoming increasingly critical. Some nights, Worf would bring Klingon colleagues home, and they would eat or have drinks while discussing the war. They spoke strange dialects that the translator couldn't translate and Jadzia couldn't understand. From what she could make out, they were seriously thinking of retreating from the homeworld. Some people thought they should destroy it, but others were past that level of idealism. They needed to either fortify their defences or find a new place to go fast.

To add to it all, Jadzia had a new fear: Worf was ignoring her. She felt guilty worrying about such a trivial thing when so many lives were at stake, but it was always there, biting at her. Most of the time, Worf was gone, but when he was home, he spent his time lavishing affection on Shen and then having over-serious man-to-man chats with Kang. Then he would slump into bed, exhausted. Jadzia vowed not to bring it up to with him, not when he had so many things on his mind, but it still hurt.

Sirella, with her irritating powers of observation noticed this.

"It happened to me when I had my first daughter," she said matter-of-factly, "Martok was suddenly brusque, like he couldn't believe he'd wasted his time on me. That's why I only had two."

"You had three," Jadzia corrected.

"Daughters I mean," Sirella continued, "When I had the first one, I swore I wouldn't have any others, but after I got rid of six of them, I was getting pretty old and I thought I might as well have the last one."

Jadzia froze in shock.

"You did _what_?" she asked slowly.

"You know. Removal. I can put you in touch if you want. It's done in the first few weeks, very discrete. He wouldn't even have to know you were pregnant."

Jadzia breathed in deeply, and shuddered to control he anger.

"Don't you regret it," she asked evilly, "Now that they're all dead?"

Jadzia was sure that this wasn't the case anyhow, Shen seemed to be Worf's favourite child. But this didn't stop Sirella.

"I found this dress today," she said the next time Jadzia came to pick up the kids, "I'm too old to wear it now, but I thought you'd like it. Very seductive."

Jadzia bristled, but Sirella was right. It was a very good dress. Clearly, no expense had been spared in making it, and it was cut just perfectly around the bust. She decided to wear it for Worf the next time he came home.

"Hello," she said sweetly as soon as he walked into the bed room. She had done her hair and put on lots of makeup as well as the dress. He looked startled.

"You look nice," he said, scanning her body, "Did you put this on just for me?"

"Well, Sirella had this old dress, and I thought ..."

But he didn't let her finish, he pushed her against the wall and started kissing her.

Those first few seconds were bliss. He still loves me, she thought gleefully, I still have it. And as he pulled the dress off her shoulders, she was pleased to see he still couldn't control himself for long.

As she thought that, she heard a scream ring out. Kang.

"I'll get it," Worf said. He was still dressed.

Jadzia waited, amused, as he rather sternly told Kang that warriors must not be afraid of their dreams and put him back to bed.

"I don't think you were very sensitive," Dax chided, laughing, as soon as he was back in the room.

"Next time," Worf said, picking her up and laying her across the bed. He growled as he ran his hands across her body. It was so nice to feel his touch again.

"Sisko to Dax," the Comm. system rang out. Dax ignored it.

"Sisko to Dax," the voice said again. Worf stopped. Dax sighed and started looking for her communicator.

"What is it?" she asked as soon as she found it.

"We need you in ops right now, an unknown ship has just de-cloaked."

"Can this wait fifteen minutes?" she asked rudely. Worf gave her a dirty look for using such a tone with her commanding officer.

"You know it can't," the captain replied without wavering.

Jadzia put on her uniform and stormed out.

Later, Jadzia picked up the dress, washed it and put it away nicely. She never bothered putting in on again.


	10. Chapter 10

Jadzia thought that if she stopped eating, she would become superhuman. She'd done it once before. In her first year at the academy, she'd felt overwhelmed and ignored, important enough to be expected to ace everything, but not important enough for anyone to care about. It was then that she had decided to stop eating.

It had been so easy. She had started avoiding the dining hall as she didn't have any friends to notice she was missing. On bad days, she'd eaten a few crackers alone in her dormitory. It had been an amazing feeling, knowing secretly that she didn't indulge the same earthly needs as her peers. She felt high for days at a time. For the first time in her life, she had been in control.

She had become spindly, and her cheekbones had begun to jut out. She had liked the change, she thought it made her look older. Guys, classmates, had started to notice her, turning their heads as she walked by. Or maybe she had just started to realize they did this. It had pleased her, that they didn't know her secret weapon.

Then, she had begun to stumble. At first, it seemed like a coincidence. They had changed the chairs in the library so many times, of course she should forget how to get out of them. But then, there had been the horrible realization that she couldn't even make it down a hallway without grabbing onto a wall. She started making excuses to avoid battle exercises. She knew she couldn't make it through them.

Then, the moment of reckoning. It had been the last class before final exams, and she was rushing into the classroom when she fell. Not a small fall that she could hide by grabbing onto the back of a chair, but a spectacular fall, down four flights of stairs into the lecture area.

"I'm okay, I'm okay," she had screamed, terrified, but two of her classmates had carried her to the infirmary. As soon as the doctor scanned her, she knew she would be exposed. She had started crying,

"Please," she said, "I'm sorry ... I couldn't bring myself to come in ... it was so embarrassing ... worms coming out of my ... you know ..."

Then she had collapsed into another torrent of sobs. She could tell he didn't believe her. But he had let her save face.

"Well, the important thing is that you're here," he had said, "I will give you some medication. But you need to gain one kilo by next week and ten kilos in the next two months, or I am going to discharge you."

She nodded gratefully. He had given her the name of a counsellor, in case she needed to talk to someone, and sent her off.

That night, she had taken a bowl of cereal from the cafeteria. She knew she couldn't bring herself to eat in front of people. She had put it down on her desk in her dorm, and sat over it, crying. She had to do it, she knew, or else, they would kick her out of Starfleet. They would send her back to Trill. She would never be joined. She would be alone forever, without even a symbiant to keep her company. Slowly, beneath her tears, she put her hand into the bowl and put some cereal into her mouth.

It took her three hours, but she finished the entire bowl. The next day, she ate another one, and slowly but surely, she had kept up her end of the bargain. By the end of the week, she was up one kilo.

The entry on her record still read _tapeworms_.

This time it was different, this time she didn't care if they kicked her out of Starfleet. In fact, she secretly hoped they would. And it was just as easy as it was the last time. At breakfast, she would eat two bites of her cake, and then push it back into the replicator when no one was looking. Between Kang and Shen, there was always an adequate distraction.

Then, she would work through lunch as she often did, claiming, if anyone asked, that she had eaten at her station. Her long shifts meant that she also worked through dinner, so she told the people on ops that with the new baby, Worf had insisted they eat as a family, and he was keeping dinner late. Of course, this was a lie, and when she got home, he assumed that she had already eaten. And that was it, a full day on two bites of cake.

The fact that no one noticed just confirmed to Jadzia that no one cared about her. She had been a little bit concerned that someone might say something, and she would have to make excuses. But she was doing it. She was flying. She didn't have to worry about Captain Sisko yelling at her anymore, she just happily thought of her secret. He would regret overworking her when she was forty kilos. Worf could ignore her, Kang could cling and Shen could scream. She just focused on her goal and stayed calm. Things felt strangely back together.

This carried on for a month, until Dr. Bashir tapped her on her back one morning.

"I was wondering if you want to have lunch today," he asked, "We haven't done that for awhile."

"I can't," she said, "I'm too busy."

"I'm free any day this week," he replied, "You must be free one of them."

"Tomorrow," she said finally.

Jadzia made sure she was sitting down well before Dr. Bashir came in to the replimat.

"I was so hungry I came early and ate already," she told him, "But we can still chat."

"How much of it did you push back into the replicator?" he asked.

"Only what I didn't eat," she replied, acting as if she had no idea what he was talking about. Dr. Bashir sighed, and got a tray.

"Are you sure you don't want anything?" he asked, "My treat," he added, as if it mattered.

The smell of the food on his tray was getting to Jadzia.

"Can I have your apple?" she asked.

"I can get you an apple," he replied.

"No, I want yours," she said.

He gave her a strange look, but handed her the apple. She turned it over three times before she took a bite. She always made a point of turning things over three times before she ate them.

"So how are things?" he asked.

She turned her apple over three more times, but wasn't sure that the last time it had made it entirely around, so she turned it over three times again. She hesitated before taking another bite.

"Fine," she said.

"How's Shen?" he asked.

"Loud," she joked, struggling not to think about the apple before she had a chance to turn it again, "But her hair's starting to grow in, curly like her father's."

"I think they're going to have a lot in common," said Dr. Bashir.

Jadzia tried to decide whether to take another bite of her apple. Three bites ought to be enough for anyone, but maybe one more couldn't hurt. She could skip her cake tomorrow. She started to turn it.

"Sisko to Dax," the Comm. System blared.

"I need to go," she said, slamming the apple onto the table with relief, and running off.

It was another week before she started to stagger. It was just subtle, though, she knew she could hide it. She made a point of standing closer to her station than usual, in case she fell towards it.

A few days later, she was walking off to a cargo bay, going to take inventory to avoid lunch when Dr. Bashir came up behind her.

"You need to come with me," he said.

"I need to take inventory ..." she insisted.

"This is Captain's orders," he said.

"I'll go ask him!" she spat.

"It doesn't matter," he replied, "I'm the chief medical officer. My judgement supersedes his in this case."

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"My quarters."

When they got inside, Jadzia saw that there were plates of food spread out on the table.

"I'm not hungry," she yelled as soon as she saw them. Dr. Bashir ignored her.

"We are going to have lunch," he stated simply.

"I do not have to stand for this," she yelled, turning for the door. It was locked.

"Security lockout, for psych patients. It's privilege I'm allowed," he stated, "I suggest you don't make this any more difficult than it has to be."

"What if I just sit here forever?" she asked.

Dr. Bashir shrugged.

"I'm not going to give up and let you go, if that's what you're asking."

Jadzia reluctantly sat at the table and scanned it. Salad. She could eat that. She pulled the plate towards herself.

She never ate with utensils anymore, so she picked up a leaf with her hand and started to turn it. She shoved it into her mouth.

"Are you happy?" she asked defiantly.

"Not yet," he said.

As she worked on the salad, she started to worry. It was only a couple of leaves. When it ran out, would he make her eat something else?

When she had finished every morsel, including the stems, she looked at the Doctor.

"I got your favourite pudding," he suggested. But pudding was out of the question. She looked around and saw something that looked like chicken. She grabbed it. She peeled the skin off, and tore off a small piece. She turned it and put it into her mouth. It was at that moment, she came to the realization that she couldn't do this. She stood up.

"I find it surprising," she said to the doctor, desperately, "How you conceal your real intentions for bringing me here."

She walked towards him. Then, she kissed him.

*****

Jadzia didn't need to avoid food any longer. She had found something better. Now when she walked down the hall, she had another secret. No one knew that Jadzia Dax, Lieutenant Commander, mother of two, was sleeping with Dr. Bashir.

Food had become part of the ritual, they always made sure to have a large lunch beforehand, like they had the first time. It was fun, and it helped avoid suspicion. If anyone asked, he was supervising her food intake, just like he was supposed to.

Of course, things has escalated and become more wild. First, they had met once or twice a week, but now it was almost every day. Jadzia had wanted a greater variety of locations, so they had met once in a holosuite under the pretence of performing simulations. Quark had seemed suspicious, though, so they hadn't done it again.

An oblivious Worf had noticed that she seemed happier, and asked why, when nothing had changed. She lied, saying that it was because Shen had been sleeping through the night more often, hadn't he noticed that?


End file.
